


okay

by cecropia



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Kinda, M/M, One Shot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Writer's Block sucks, as usual, connor has depression fam, i've been writing this for like a month, it's not much but whatevs, there's your warning for that, uhhh they make out, we been knew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 04:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20371045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecropia/pseuds/cecropia
Summary: But it’s like the moment he settles into bed and gets comfy, wrapping himself up in that plush blanket Evan got him for his birthday a couple of years back even though it makes him just a little bit sweaty, everything good that’s happened today just… doesn’t even matter anymore. It’s like someone turned a switch in his brain and now he’s some big stupid sad robot who doesn’t know what happiness is like.Okay, that’s an exaggeration. But it feels true.





	okay

**Author's Note:**

> raise ur hand if you've been personally victimized by The Collie by YellowMustard  
seriously it's so good GO READ IT but also it's so angsty right now and i just needed to post some fluff, ok??? ur welcome  
sidenote: i am starting my junior year of college!!!!! i'm super super busy but i'm still writing so pls don't forget about me ;-; i am still alive, just drowning in assignments lol  
tl;dr: connor has insomnia, he calls evan, they make out. the end.  
enjoy!! <3
> 
> come talk to me! c-e-c-r-o-p-i-a on tumblr :-)  


Insomnia is  _ not _ picky. Not at all. 

It sneaks up on him when Connor’s not even expecting it, most of the time. And tonight, it’s brought with it a good old healthy dose of depression and crippling self-doubt, which makes absolutely no sense at all, Connor decides. None at all. 

Today had been  _ good _ . And it’s fucking rare that Connor has a  _ good _ day, let alone one that he can actually refer to as more than just okay, and today  _ was _ that rare occasion. 

Firstly, Larry had left the house before Connor had even woken up this morning, which is a major plus. That alone had Connor in a way better mood than usual before he’d even sat down for breakfast, which was also uneventful. Zoe was too tired to argue on the way to school, just turning up the radio and trying not to nod off at the wheel, and Evan had met him at his locker and smiled at him in that way he smiles at Connor  _ only _ , and it was just. A good day. Nobody picked on him, not even the teachers, and Connor was happy. 

But it’s like the moment he settles into bed and gets comfy, wrapping himself up in that plush blanket Evan got him for his birthday a couple of years back even though it makes him just a little bit sweaty, everything good that’s happened today just… doesn’t even matter anymore. It’s like someone turned a switch in his brain and now he’s some big stupid sad robot who doesn’t know what happiness is like. 

Okay, that’s an exaggeration. But it  _ feels _ true. 

And  _ yeah _ , he knows what he’s supposed to do when this happens. He’s supposed to talk to someone, right? He’s supposed to get up and cross the hall to Zoe’s room or pull up Evan’s contact and text him, tell him that he’s feeling like life is sort of pointless at this moment in time and that he’s kind of wondering what it would be like if he didn’t exist anymore but that’s. It’s kind of dumb, isn’t it? Like, he doesn’t want to make anyone else feel like this. Not anymore. He doesn’t want to dump all of these bad feelings on anyone, especially not the people he actually cares about. That’s fucking stupid. It might… he doesn’t know how it’ll affect Evan. It could make him worse.

And if he fucks things up with Zoe again, they’ll never really be okay with each other. He can’t risk it. 

And also, he doesn’t really think he has the energy to actually walk to Zoe’s room or even to pick up his phone. He just wants to keep laying here, staring blankly at the wall and letting himself wallow in self-hatred. It seems like the easiest thing to do. Plus, then he won’t infect anyone else with this giant black cloud hanging above his head. 

More than anything, Connor just wishes he could fucking  _ sleep _ . 

Because a few hours of being unconscious seems better than having to lay here tossing and turning, trying to find which direction the blanket goes in so Connor’s feet don’t stick out and then putting his hair up because it’s suddenly just  _ everywhere _ and it’s too hot in his room even though it’s the middle of winter and his room is always the coldest— 

He feels a buzz from right next to his head. 

Connor manages to reach up just underneath his pillow, grabbing his phone and cringing at the brightness of his screen in the dark, dark room. He rolls his eyes and smiles a little when he sees Jared Kleinman’s stupid fucking face in the group photo he has as his lock screen, instantly remembering how he likes to keep his phone at the highest brightness setting at all times because  _ how else do you expect me to see, Connor.  _

And then he sees Evan’s tight smile and rosy cheeks and happy eyes and feels his grin widen, but it quickly falls when his gaze lands on himself, tucked into Evan’s side and smiling with his teeth. He looks... gross, if he’s being honest. But Evan had set this picture as his lock screen and of  _ course _ he can’t change it now, so every time he unlocks his phone he has to stare at his ugly fucking face because if he doesn’t Evan will be offended or sad or something and won’t tell him that he’s sad and offended because that’s what Evan does. 

And also every time Connor gets his phone out the photo makes Evan smile, something Connor practically lives and breathes for, so he’ll fucking deal with it. It’s just a picture. 

Blinking into focus with his brightness successfully all the way down, he notices two things: it’s 2:47 am, and he has a text from one Evan Hansen. 

They’re always on the same wavelength, it seems. 

  
  


**Evan Handsome:** was just about to fall asleep and then a pile of clothes fell over and now I’m convinced there’s a ghost living in my house 

  
  


Connor chuckles to himself, biting back a smile and typing a reply. 

  
  


**Connor** : what’s his name

**Connor** : give me the whole backstory

**Evan Handsome** : ok so I think he’s a Victorian ghost because he knocked over that shirt Jared got for me that says it’s lit with the fire emojis and Victorian ghosts would probably be like wtf does that mean and think it’s like against god or something and yeah. his name is Edward probably

**Connor** : like Edward Cullen 

**Evan Handsome** : wow I didn’t know u were that kind of emo kid

**Evan Handsome** : I feel like I should be more surprised but I’m not

**Connor** : blame Zoe 

**Evan Handsome** : u look like Edward Cullen

**Evan Handsome** : (in a good way) 

**Connor** : does that mean you’re Bella 

**Evan Handsome** : pretty sure Bella has a supportive father so no I guess not

**Connor** : fuck lol

  
  


The conversation lulls. Evan’s not typing anymore, so he’s probably about to go back to sleep, and. Connor’s heart kind of drops at the idea of him leaving so soon, because then Connor’s alone again. 

So, fuck it.  _ Vulnerability _ , or whatever. Connor can be vulnerable. 

  
  


**Connor** : can’t sleep

**Evan Handsome** : everything ok?

  
  


Connor’s smiling again. It’s the reply he had been expecting, but it still makes his heart ache in his chest. In this moment he’s a giddy teenager who’s stupidly in love but he can’t seem to care because Evan’s  _ his _ , and Evan  _ wants _ to be his. And it feels fucking great. 

  
  


**Connor** : my brain is a lot

  
  


Evan will get it. He always does. 

  
  


**Evan Handsome** : wanna call me?

  
  


Connor’s about to protest, but—

  
  


**Evan Handsome** : yes I know I hate phone calls but I’m offering so u might as well take me up on the offer

  
  


Connor breathes out a long breath. He’s not sure if it’s a sigh of exhaustion or relief or adoration but either way, he opens Evan’s contact and hits the call icon before he can talk himself out of it. 

As expected, it rings a couple of times because Evan’s probably psyching himself up and then it connects and Connor doesn’t know what to even  _ say _ or where to start. Because it’s a lot.

Connor himself is just a lot. 

He’s not sure how Evan deals with it.

“ _ Hi _ ,” Evan says breathlessly, doing that awkward laugh thing when he doesn’t really know what to do so he just fills the silence instead. “ _ Um. Are you… are you there? _ ”

“Yeah— yeah, sorry, I um. Y’know.”

“ _ Uh-huh _ .” Evan’s smiling, Connor can hear it in his voice. 

“Shut the fuck up, it’s 3 am.” 

“ _ Yeah _ ,” Evan says, the line falling silent for a second. “ _ Are you, um— you’re not, uh, you—you seem— tell me what’s wrong? Did, did something happen, or...? _ ”

Connor smiles, bites his lip. 

A lot of people take for granted the feeling of having someone care for them. And the feeling fucking doubles when it’s Evan, calling Connor up because he knows he’s having a bad night even though Connor can practically  _ hear _ every single cell in Evan’s body screaming for him to hang up and chuck his phone across the room. 

“It’s… hard to explain. I dunno. ‘S dumb.”

Listen. Connor’s very aware that he’s deflecting, okay? But it’s not like it’s something he can just stop, because it’s fucking hard to talk about the fact that he kind of wants to kill himself right now and he doesn’t think he has the ability to say it out loud right now. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have even told Evan. Left him out of it. Let him have a decent night’s sleep. Connor’s not even bothering to talk, just keeping Evan on the phone for no reason. He’s kind of the worst friend and soulmate in the entire world.

At the prolonged silence, Connor hears Evan take a soft breath in. “ _ Do you… do you need to come over, I can…? Uh, you  _ can _ . If you need to. Or, or even if you just  _ want _ to, you know, you’re— you can always. Come over _ .” Evan clears his throat. 

And, like. He shouldn’t. 

Connor knows that. He shouldn’t burden Evan with all of his usual bullshit at this time of night when they both have to be up bright and early. He’s bothered Evan enough tonight, and he bothers Evan all the time with his stupid brain, so. Evan deserves a break from him. Evan probably  _ wants _ a break from Connor and his fucking baggage. 

“I don’t have to, I’m okay.”

Silence. 

_ “Um, Connor…?” _

“Yeah?”

_ “You’re not… like, you don’t have to  _ lie _ to me— if— if you don’t wanna come over that’s fine, like I know we don’t really have anything to do here and it’s always a mess, so— like, I get it, you know? It’s— I’m not the best person to be around when you’re upset I guess because people crying makes me a little uncomfortable and I don’t really know if I should hug them or not touch them and it’s all just—“ _

“I want to,” Connor interjects, louder than he should, taking a short breath so he doesn’t lose it. He feels like he’s fighting a war with his fucking brain and he doesn’t even know which side to root for. “I just. I don’t want it to… y’know. Make things worse for you, or whatever.” He’s mumbling.  _ I don’t want you to get sick of me _ , he adds in the back of his mind. 

_ “You don’t, um… you don’t ever make anything worse for me, Connor.” _

Everything quiets down for a second. His head stops pounding and he can finally open his eyes and take a deep breath, allowing himself to do that thing where he’s open and does what he wants because he knows it’s the best option. 

_ You don’t ever make anything worse for me, Connor. _

No stutters. No repetition. He didn’t trip over his words. All of that,  _ and _ he’s talking on the phone. 

It must mean  _ something _ , right?

Connor bites his lip, rolling his eyes to avoid smiling even though Evan can’t see him. “You’re full of shit.”

_ “I’m not! I was— it was— I was trying to be, like… cute, or something, I dunno...” _

Connor shakes his head. “So am I coming over or what?”

No going back now. 

_ “If— if that’s _ — _ um. Yeah. You, you are. Coming over.” _

Connor allows himself to grin. “Good.”

… 

“I am never leaving this bed ever again.”

“Fine by me,” Evan mumbles, pulling Connor slightly closer to his chest. It’s subtle, but it doesn’t go unnoticed. “But, um— just as long as I can stay, too.” Connor feels Evan’s hand rake through his hair and his eyes automatically flutter shut. He sighs contentedly at the touch. 

“Duh. You’re kind of a requirement.”

Evan hums happily, cheek pressed to the top of Connor’s head. It’s the cutest thing Connor’s ever heard, and his face immediately flushes at the thought, because. Evan Hansen has gone and turned him into a goddamn sap. 

Connor winds his arms further around Evan’s torso, trying his best to ignore this stupid empty pit forming in his stomach, because he’s trying to enjoy some quality time with his best friend/soulmate and it’s fucking distracting. He takes a slow, shaky inhale, followed by an even slower exhale that he hopes doesn’t reach Evan’s ears. Except then Connor’s thinking about how much he appreciates Evan for just  _ existing _ and for holding him close when he doesn’t even know what’s wrong and so Connor ends up pulling him just a little bit closer, hugging him a little bit tighter.

“Connor?”

Fuck. 

“Hmm?” The question lilts up at the end in false enthusiasm and Connor cringes at himself. 

“Do you wanna talk about anything…?”

Connor can feel Evan’s hands on his back, picking at a string in the seam of his hoodie. The air suddenly feels full of unspoken words. It’s suffocating. 

“There’s not really anything to talk about.”

Connor’s own voice sounds wrong when it reaches his ears. Evan shifts, pulling apart from Connor just an inch. And Connor can tell Evan’s looking at him, so he has no choice but to sigh and tip his head backward, craning his neck to look Evan in the eyes.

“Well,” Evan bats his long eyelashes at him, gives him a gentle smile. “That’s— that’s okay, I mean— are you sure there’s…” He searches Connor’s face. “Are you sure it’s nothing?”

Connor gives in with a roll of his eyes. “Sometimes…” He rolls over onto his back, arms folded across his chest. Evan runs his fingers through Connor’s hair, a gentle  _ go on _ . “Sometimes it’s just… everything is good, y’know, everything is  _ great _ , and then…” Connor shrugs, shuts his eyes. “And then it’s not.”

A beat of silence. Evan’s hand stills on his head.

“God, I sound like such a fucking idiot, don’t I?”

Evan scoffs at him. “ _ No _ , no, you really don’t. I get it, it’s like— it’s like it comes out of nowhere, like— you could just be sitting there doing nothing and all of a sudden you’re— not good. No matter what happened before, it’s just— you’re kind of just… gone. You don’t want to do anything, or say anything, or even move because— because it doesn’t seem like there’s really a point? You just feel…  _ empty _ , I guess. That’s how I’d describe it, at least.”

Evan falls silent and Connor slowly opens his eyes, blinking up at soft green ones that seem to hold endless patience and understanding. His own start to well up with tears just a little. “Yeah.”

Evan pushes a strand of hair behind Connor’s ear so, so lovingly and the tears threaten to fall, but like. Fuck that. 

_ Get it together, Murphy.  _ Fuck.

But then Evan gives him the softest, most understanding grin and it’s not even that Evan’s pitying him, Connor can just tell that the look in his eyes is just pure compassion and it’s a look he’s really,  _ really _ not used to seeing. Like, ever.

It all feels like too much, suddenly.

“You should kiss me now,” Connor blurts out, hands already snaking up Evan’s sides. Evan glances down and lets out a short, surprised laugh, his own hands covering Connor’s and interlocking their fingers. 

“As if I’d actually ever deny you,” Evan murmurs, pressing his lips to Connor’s and  _ this _ . This is what he needed. Because needless to say, words don’t come all that naturally to him. He’s spent the majority of his life trying to  _ avoid _ talking to his family and his therapist and pretty much anyone who comes across his path, and he’s always been better at showing how he feels through acts and touches and looks anyway. It seems to get the message across quicker.

So when Evan ghosts his fingers across Connor’s cheek he can literally  _ feel _ how much Evan cares about him, he doesn’t even have to say a word. And when Connor kisses him back he puts his all into it, trying so so  _ so _ hard to communicate every single feeling he has in this moment; fingers pressed to Evan’s jaw, softly caressing Evan’s lips with his own, bumping Evan’s knees with his and sliding one in between Evan’s thighs to reassure himself that Evan’s real and he’s here and he cares, he cares he cares he  _ cares _ . 

At first, Evan had mistakenly thought it was some kind of distraction. Like Connor didn’t want to think about what was wrong, he just wanted physical intimacy so he didn’t have to face his problems for the time being. And it took a long time for Evan to understand that doing  _ this _ , touching Evan and kissing him and just being present with him is pretty much the only way Connor knows how to express how he’s feeling without fucking it up. Words are fucking hard and a lot of the time they come out wrong and he says things he doesn’t mean; words are goddamn  _ useless _ most of the time, so if Connor reaches out and grabs Evan’s hand to examine all of his freckles or picks a hair off of his shirt or brushes Evan’s hand with his when they’re walking next to each other, it’s not without meaning. Ever.

But now that Evan  _ gets _ it, understands that Connor’s just not a talker, he runs his fingers feather-light down Connor’s sides and back up again, just because he knows it makes Connor shiver. And when they separate to take a second and just breathe, Evan presses slow kisses to the skin of Connor’s neck and holds Connor to him with one hand tangled in his hair and one pressed to the small of his back. 

Connor makes a soft sound of protest and Evan’s head immediately snaps up, concerned eyes searching Connor’s again, but Connor just wordlessly pulls Evan’s lips to his again. He says  _ I love you _ with two hands on the back of Evan’s neck, and Evan tells him the same with trembling fingers curling into the soft material of his sweatshirt. 

He feels Evan smile and sigh softly against his mouth, and Connor’s… okay. He’s not  _ cured _ , he’s not on top of the world with a sudden will to live and happiness spilling from his goddamn pockets, but. He’s okay. And that okay-ness may be temporary, but he’s content with the knowledge that at least for now he has Evan and Evan’s got him and right now, in this very moment, nothing can touch them. 

Right now, they’re okay. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
